


Slavery and Freedom

by secooper87



Series: The Child of Balime [19]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, American History, Civil War, French Revolution, Slavery, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secooper87/pseuds/secooper87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is freedom really worth?  And how many lives must you sacrifice to get it?  Dawn and Seo explore these questions, as they travel to 19th century United States and 18th century France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The "Slavery" story is about the American Civil War. Therefore, as with all racial things ever written, it will probably offend someone somewhere at some point, be they white, black, or a gun-toting alien from outer space. I know that there are a lot of ways to view the Civil War which I don't use, many of which are more valid than what I did.
> 
> I chose to represent the Civil War in this way due to the characters I'm using (particularly, due to what they know and don't know, which is significant), and in order to create a coherent and enjoyable-to-read plotline.
> 
> I am perfectly aware that the North had its own racial issues. And that many Southerners actually understood better than Northerners that blacks were real people, simply due to exposure. Remember that neither Seo nor Dawn have ever been to the North in this time period, nor are either of them experts in Civil War History, so they don't actually know the full story.
> 
> (I also apologize ahead of time if any of the speech patterns offend you. I tried my best to capture the accents, but I might easily have failed.)
> 
> **So please don't fill up the comments section with hate-spams about how I'm racist against whites, racist against blacks, or completely misrepresenting the Civil War! I know I'm misrepresenting the Civil War, I'm doing it on purpose.**
> 
> If you want an impartial assessment of the Civil War and its racial issues, please see Ken Burns' documentary on the subject.
> 
> If, however, you want to be entertained by reading (what I think is) a really cool story, then please read on.
> 
> And enjoy!

Slavery

* * *

Dawn ran. Heart pounding, breath heaving with every step.

Yelped, as an energy blast seared past her, hitting a tree. Glanced over her shoulder, trying to regain her footing.

"This is illegal, you know!" she shouted back. "Earth's a class five planet! You can't—!"

The next energy blast just barely missed singeing her ear.

Dawn dodged out of the way, hurtling through the trees, the two aliens not far behind her. Could hear the click hum of their tracker systems, picking her up perfectly.

Nowhere she could hide.

Not even Earth.

Dawn heard the distinct sounds of energy weapons powering up, again, and threw herself across the ground, just in time to avoid being hit by a barrage of firepower. She rolled out of the way, across the dense foliage beneath her.

Then…

To her left, the sudden sound of a series of bullet-firing guns, all going off at once with a resounding _crack_!

Dawn turned, as did the aliens.

But for the aliens, too late.

"And again!" shouted the man in military uniform, as a second tier of men stepped forwards, leveling their muskets and firing at the aliens.

The aliens, caught off guard, collapsed to the ground. Dead.

Only just muttering a warning to their commander about the weaponry on this world, as they died.

Dawn breathed, heavily. Looking between the fallen aliens, and the men who'd just saved her life. Okay. So this was Earth, and these guys were wearing blue uniforms with gold buttons, stripes along the sleeves, and carrying muskets. Which meant… the year was…

Um…

Sometime… in the past… ish?

(Maybe Buffy had been right about not skipping History class when she'd been in High School. By rule of thumb, if there wasn't an HBO mini-series made about it, Dawn had no idea about history.)

"Never seen the likes of them before," said the man who seemed to be in charge, stepping forward to examine the alien bodies. He then turned to Dawn. "You all right, Ma'am?"

Dawn couldn't speak, for a few minutes.

"This war's no place for civilians and sight-seers," said the man. His eyes grew sad. "Trust me." Gestured at one of his men. "Private Mitchell, get this young lady somewhere safe."

"Yes, Colonel, sir!" said Private Mitchell, swinging his musket across his back and helping Dawn up.

"And the rest!" shouted the Colonel, gesturing at them. "Advance!"

Dawn accompanied Private Mitchell back through the trees, to the camp where he and the others had gotten set up. Looking at all the technology, trying to piece together clues about when they could be… and totally failing.

"Okay, stupid question," said Dawn. "But… where are we, and what year is it?"

Private Mitchell looked at her like she was nuts. "Year?"

Dawn gave a sheepish grin. "Bang on the head. Total amnesia moment."

"Missouri," said Private Mitchell. "1861."

Which meant nothing to her.

"Yeah, of course," said Dawn. "And the president is…?"

"Abraham Lincoln," said Private Mitchell. "No matter what the rebels claim."

Dawn froze. As she suddenly placed all the technology and uniforms and armies she was seeing. Finally worked out what was going on. And where they'd wound up.

"Oh, my God," breathed Dawn. "Then this war is…"

"The War of the Rebellion," agreed Private Mitchell.

"…the Civil War," said Dawn. She stared off into the distance. "And Seo's run right into the middle of it."

* * *

Seo tried to lose herself in the crowds of people inside the town.

Those alien tracker systems wouldn't work on her, of course. After all, Seo didn't show up on machines. But the aliens had a keen sense of smell, and Seo was hoping the dense crowd around her would confuse that.

So she'd stolen some clothes, tried to blend in as much as she could, and then had crept off to wherever the crowd was thickest.

Which was in a public square. A man's voice ringing out, across the crowd.

"Hearing five… do I hear six? Six, thank you, Ma'am! Six dollars, do I hear six twenty five?"

Seo froze.

Her hearts stopping dead in her chest.

Looking up on the stage, and recognizing… the auction… the way the two men and the woman behind them were chained… the way they were being poked and prodded and examined like animals…

A slave auction.

Seo charged forwards, pushing past the crowd, and jumped onto the stage.

"Stop!" she shouted. "You're making a terrible mistake!" She pointed at the three people chained up behind her. "These aren't slaves! They're human beings — like you!"

The crowd began to shout at her, and the well-dressed man at the front gestured at the local security, the burly men standing a short ways away and advancing on Seo.

"Can't you hear me?" Seo insisted. "These are people! Not Ood or Cherfilis or anything like that. Human beings, no different from the rest of you lot. You can't…!"

One of the security guards tried to gently maneuver her out of the way, but Seo squirmed around so she was at just the right angle to elbow him in the stomach. Kicked back the other one, advancing towards her from the front, and dove out of the way of the third, aiming her sonic lock-pick at the chains securing the prisoners together, and grabbing them by the hands.

"Stop her!" shouted the man.

The security regained their footing, clambering back to their feet and grabbing up muskets, shouting as they pursued the others. Seo adjusted her sonic, so it gave out an ear-shattering whine, causing the pursuing men to double over.

Then yanked her new friends down an alley and out of the way.

The crack of gunfire erupting behind them.

"Oh, Lor!" breathed the woman with Seo. "Oh, Lor!"

"Just run, Mary!" said the older man. "Run!"

And so they ran.

* * *

The auctioneer stood up, his eyes narrow, his face filled with rage. Good stock, and he'd lost it. His clients would have his head for this.

Turned to the slave patrollers. "Get the dogs," he growled. Pointing at the disappearing group. "I want them back!"

The slave patrollers raced off to do as they were told.

The auctioneer turned back to the sheriff. "And I want that abolitionist hanged!" he said. "Lady or no!" He rolled up his cuffs. "Ain't never lost stock in my life, and I ain't gonna start now."

* * *

Seo buzzed at the door to one of the houses nearby with her lockpick. Yanked the door open, ushered them all inside.

"What's that?" said the older man. "Penny whistle?"

"Ain't never heard no penny whistle sound like that," the young man replied, as they all scrambled into the building. He met Seo's eyes with his. "Never heard of no penny whistle could open locks, neither."

Seo gave a sideways grin, as she tucked it away, then began to barricade the doors. "Sonic lockpick," she said. "I'm still working on making the full screwdriver." She paused. "I never got your name."

"Joshua," said the young man. He gestured at the other two. "That there's Solomon 'n Mary."

Seo smiled at the other two — married couple, looked like — as she finished up the barricade.

"What is goin' on in…?" came a woman's voice, as a young Caucasian lady, elegantly dressed, emerged into view. Stopped, the moment she saw the crowd by her front door. "Oh."

Seo held out her hand. "We're not going to hurt you," she said. Stepped forwards. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

The woman pushed past Seo and the three slaves. Looking out the window. "Fightin' broken out already?" she asked. "I reckoned it'd only be a matter of time." She turned back to Seo. Shutting the drapes. "Felicity Tailor," she introduced. "And don't worry. You can stay here. Yanks don't give back slaves, you know. Keep 'em as contraband."

Seo blinked.

Only just realizing… that this woman thought these people belonged to Seo.

"They're not mine. And… and… they're not slaves!" Seo insisted. Bunched her hands into fists, frustrated. "How many times do I have to say this? These are human beings! Natural born people, no different from you!"

Felicity blinked. Confused. "They… ain't yours?"

"They're my _friends_ ," Seo insisted. "I rescued them off a podium, because some thick-headed ape decided they were bits of property instead of living, breathing people."

Felicity's eyes narrowed. She raced to the door, jerking the items away from it, shouting as loud as she could, "Runaway slaves! In here!"

"No!" shouted Seo, reaching out to grab her back. "Wait! Don't—!"

But she was too late.

As Felicity threw open the door, and came face-to-face with the tall purple-skinned humanoid, its three arms positioned around a lethal-looking gun, its head lopsided, the left half looking almost melted around the cybernetic scanning implant.

Felicity stumbled back. Terrified.

Mary clutched at Solomon's arm, her whole body trembling as she saw the monster emerge. "Solomon!" she squeaked.

"The humans will hand over the fugitive slave!" the alien demanded. Charging up its gun. "Or face incineration."

"The… the… the slaves are in here!" said Felicity. She grabbed up Joshua by the arm, and threw him forwards. "Take 'em."

The alien ignored her. "Harboring a fugitive slave is punishable by death," it said. "You will hand her over, or we will take her by force."

"You can't," said Seo, grabbing up Joshua, and yanking him away from the alien. "This is a class five planet. You've got no jurisdiction."

The alien seemed amused. Then pointed his gun straight at Felicity, and pressed the trigger.

"Don't!" Seo shouted.

But too late.

As the blast of the energy beam struck Felicity, and she screamed, before vanishing in a whiff of vapor.

"That was illegal!" Seo screamed. "You had no right to—"

The alien responded by turning the gun on Mary and Solomon, who both raised up their hands, terrified.

"The reward for the return of fugitive slaves," the alien hissed, "is ten percent of their total value."

Ah. That explained a lot.

"You're never going to give up, are you?" Seo breathed.

"The humans will surrender the fugitive," the alien commanded the humans in the room, "or face annihilation."

"Face this!" shouted Joshua, grabbing up a small stone bust from beside him and pelting it at the monster's non-cybernetic eye.

The alien screamed, gun spinning around to aim at Joshua.

But he and Seo had already turned and fled.

The other two following. The sharp acrid scent of the energy beam sweeping through the air, as walls and fixtures disappeared, around them. The four panting as they ran from the house, out into the open countryside behind it.

"Cover!" shouted Solomon, leading them all to a patch of woodland, and just barely managing to avoid the next shot from the alien's gun.

"Monster it was," Mary whispered, glancing over her shoulder. "Oh, Lor, Solomon! Paddy rollers are usin' monsters, now. Usin' monsters to track us down!"

"We're alive," Solomon reassured her. "Remember that."

Joshua shook his head, as they crouched in a hiding spot. "Nah," he said. "Them monsters ain't after us." He looked at Seo, pointedly. A glimmer of cleverness in his eyes. "Was they?"

Seo looked down at the ground, bit her lip.

Found out.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm not trying to screw up your war thingy!" shouted Dawn. "I'm just trying to save my niece. Okay? She's being pursued by a whole bunch of Virox, and it would really help if you shot them down for us!"

"The monsters chasing you?" said Private Mitchell. He scoffed. "They didn't seem too terrifying."

"Yeah, that's because the Virox are basically uninterested in me," said Dawn. "I've only traveled in time a little bit, so the guys they sent after me were lightweights. The big-guns… they're sending after Seo."

Private Mitchell seemed amused. "Guess the rebels'll get more than they expected in the battlefield, then."

Dawn gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. "Listen, jerkface. Those Virox things don't care about Northerners or Southerners. In their books, you're all just humans. Humans who're harboring a fugitive slave. They've got mega laws about that."

Mitchell processed this. Thinking it all through, carefully.

"Oh, my God! You're supposed to be the North guys, fighting the Civil War!" shouted Dawn. "You're fighting to free the slaves!" She pointed back at the town. "So fight to free Seo, too!"

"We're not fighting to free the slaves," said Mitchell. "We're fighting to stop those Southern rebels from seceding from the Union."

"Seo and I are…" Dawn stopped. Blinked. "Wait, you're not fighting to… wait, huh?"

"If those monsters are gonna kill anyone harboring a slave," said Mitchell, "I say fine. The Union isn't harboring her. The rebels are. And I'm happy to let the Virox cut up as many rebels as possible."

Dawn's jaw dropped.

* * *

"She's a runaway?" said Solomon. He analyzed Seo, carefully. "Don't look like no runaway to me."

"It don't make one lick of sense, Joshua," Mary snapped. "Them monsters are from the pits of Hell! They're—"

"They ain't human," said Joshua. He shrugged. "Neither is she."

Seo smiled at him. This one was a bit clever, wasn't he?

"Ain't human?" said Solomon. He peered at her. "But she looks—"

"We don' look like white folk," Joshua argued. "They think that means we ain't like 'em, inside. But we are." He pointed his thumb to Seo. "She's the opposite. Look like the white folk. But it don' mean she's the same on the inside."

"He's right," said Seo. "I'm not human. I'm alien. And so are the Virox."

"Virox?" said Mary.

"The aliens chasing me," said Seo. "I'm a time traveler. And all time travelers are, by law, considered slaves the moment they arrive in the Virox Empire." She sighed. "I didn't know that, of course, when they dragged my ship in. But there you go."

"You travel in time?" said Joshua. He seemed intrigued. "How?"

"My ship," Seo said. Her eyes twinkled. "I can show it to you, if you want! Give you the grand tour and a demonstration of how it works and everything!" She grinned. "It's brilliant."

"And them Virox enslaved you to tell them their future?" Mary guessed.

Good guess.

"The Virox civilization runs off artron energy," Seo explained. Then, realizing they had no idea what she was talking about, added, "Artron's… the energy you get when you travel through time. Time radiation. Harmless, but powerful if you know how to harness it." They still seemed none the wiser, but Seo went on, regardless. "Problem is, the Virox can't travel through time, themselves. So they can't get the artron. Except from other time travelers. So that's what they do. Find and kidnap time travelers, turn them into factory slaves, make them work while draining the time energy from their bodies. Until they die."

"The Virox is drainin' the life from folk?" Solomon said.

"Yes, that's it," Seo agreed. She cringed. "Problem is… they noticed I didn't show up on machines. Worked out who I really am. And now… they want me for something else, entirely."

"For what?" asked Joshua.

Seo looked him right in the eye. "They want me to destroy worlds."

For a few moments, none of them said anything. Just stared at Seo, dumbstruck.

"Why?" asked Mary.

"Because I happen to be very good at it," said Seo. "And if I don't do what they want, they can threaten…" She stopped. Her eyes going unfocused. "My… aunt. They can threaten my aunt. She… was with me. We got split up on Earth, running away." Her lower lip shook. "I don't know if I'll ever see her again."

The others around her exchanged knowing looks. Then put a hand on her arm.

"We'll get 'er back," Joshua said. "Same way Mary and Solomon's gonna get their kids back."

Seo looked back at the couple. "Your children? Where…?"

"Sold down the river," Mary whispered.

It was too horrible to imagine. Too cruel to believe.

Seo opened her mouth to reply, but Joshua held up a hand to silence her. Listened.

They could hear the bark of dogs, in the distance. Coming closer.

"Run!" shouted Solomon, clutching Mary's hand, tightly, as they raced forwards.

"Get to the river!" said Joshua. "Mask the scent!"

But they weren't fast enough.

The dogs cornered them in a cornfield. Leapt on them, snapping jaws in their faces, growling and clawing. Mary shrieked, Solomon slamming the dog away from his wife, another leaping onto his back. A third clamped his jaws around Joshua's leg.

Seo gave a sharp, high-pitched whistle, through her teeth.

And the dogs, a little startled, looked up at her. And backed off.

"How…?" said Solomon.

"Trick I picked up a while ago," Seo replied. She shrugged. "I'm good with feral dogs."

The sound of a throat clearing cut them off.

They looked up.

Discovered they'd been encircled by four human white-men wielding guns. All looking on at them with severe distaste. Seo and the others held up their hands, slowly.

"Well, now," said one of the men. "Ain't she a smart one?"

Seo did her best to level a dark, defiant stare at the men surrounding them. "Let us go."

"Bet she ain't smart enough to avoid a lynching," said another one of the slave patrollers. "Abolitionist scum."

"I'm warning you," said Seo. "If you value your lives, let us go."

"You ain't in no position to make threats, Ma'am," said one of the patrollers. "Think you'll find you're under arrest for the theft—"

"You better listen 'o her, boy," said Solomon. He pointed at Seo. "You get 'er mad, and she'll destroy the world."

The others burst out laughing.

"I ain't fibbin'!" Solomon insisted. "She's bein' hunted by the devil 'imself, wantin' to corrupt her immortal soul, and make her do folk in."

They laughed even harder.

"Thick-headed humans," Seo muttered.

"Looks like they got 'emselves a guardian angel!" shouted one of the slave patrollers, through his laughter.

"If you're so dangerous, little lady," said another, as he pointed the gun at Solomon, "then prove it."

Seo said nothing for a few seconds. Just glaring at everyone around her.

"Fine," she said. Then, putting fingers in her mouth, gave another whistle.

The four dogs immediately raced forwards and jumped on her, tearing at her, biting and scratching and clawing. She sucked in her pain, banishing the thoughts of it from her mind, until the slave patrollers managed to get their dogs under control, and away from her.

"That was mighty stupid o' you," said one of the slave patrollers.

Seo looked up at him. Quirked an eyebrow.

"Actually," she said, "it was terribly clever." She got up off the ground. "You see… I've just signed all your death warrants."

The slave patroller nearest her frowned. Then screamed, as he was hit in the back by a burst of bright light, and disappeared into the air.

The other slave patrollers looked around, gasping, as they came face-to-face with a troop of ten alien monsters. They raised up their muskets, with shaking hands, but the Virox responded by raising up their own energy weapons, a snarl on their faces.

The Virox leader stepped forwards. "You have damaged the merchandise. We demand compensation."

The slave patrollers all looked at one another. "Now, look 'ere," one man said. "Them there's _our_ merchandise. You ain't got no right to just walk in 'ere and steal—"

"You will pay compensation," the Virox leader cut in. "Or face retribution."

"Sir," said the smallest of the slave patrollers. "I… think they's talkin' bout _her_."

The other humans all turned to stare at Seo, shocked.

"The spilling of a Gallifreyan's blood depletes its artron reserves," snarled the Virox leader. "You will pay the difference in value."

Seo groaned. "I'm not Gallifreyan, and you know it," she retorted. "Your machines can't even pick up my artron, let alone drain it."

The Virox leader gave a hissing laugh. "No. Not a Gallifreyan. A… thing."

"She weren't born no 'thing'," Mary snapped. "She were born same as us, in God's—"

"This item was not 'born'," sneered the Virox leader. "She was manufactured. Created. A Weapon built for war." He turned to the human slave patrollers. "A Weapon you have damaged. And we demand compensation."

"Compensation," one of the human slave patrollers said. "Yeah. Course. How much d'ya reckon then? Little thing like 'er, couldn't be worth more than a buck or two—"

"You will surrender your planet, its work force, people, and mineral wealth, as appropriate compensation for the female slave's injuries," snarled the Virox leader.

Everyone froze. Staring, open-jawed.

"You's worth more than the world?" Joshua whispered to Seo.

"I was worth at least a star system, last time I checked," Seo said. Shrugged. "I didn't hang about to hear the grand total."

"Your ultimate price was nine billion Cairosiers, and the exchange of three star systems," reported the Virox leader. "As paid by the Emperor Welphor IV, your master."

"What? You continued the auction after I'd already escaped?" Seo cried. She raised an eyebrow at them. "You certainly are self-confident, aren't you?"

The slave patroller nearest Seo just kept staring at her. This smallish girl, who didn't look particularly useful or remarkable. "How… how are you worth that much?"

"Because she destroys worlds," Mary breathed.

The slave patrollers all gaped at Seo. Then lowered their guns, and moved slowly away from her.

As it all suddenly made sense.

So much sense.

"She destroys worlds," one of the slave patrollers whispered.

"'N she just tricked us into destroyin' ours," muttered another. "Givin' it up to them… monsters."

The third slave patroller pointed at Seo. "It ain't us done set the dogs on 'er!" he insisted. "It was her! She—"

The slave patroller was obliterated in a scream of white light.

"All right, that's enough!" shouted Seo. She stepped forwards. "Stop with the 'compensation' bit. These scratches will heal easily. And you know you can't take this world without violating inter-galactic law. So stop bluffing and—"

"The humans will hand over the fugitive slave," said the Virox, "or their world will be destroyed."

"What?" shouted Seo. "Why…?"

Joshua stepped forwards. "You can stop actin'," he told Seo. "They already knows." He stood in front of them, not looking afraid at all. "They says… God created man in His own image. But she…" Pointing back at Seo, "ain't created in your image. She's created in _ours_."

The Virox leader trained his gun on Joshua. But didn't fire.

"Thing is, you's been sellin' stolen merchandise," said Joshua. "Stolen from _us_. We created 'er. You know it's true. After all — we built 'er in our own image."

"She is still a time traveler," said the Virox. "All time travelers are property of—"

"But if we constructed 'er," Joshua continued, "that means _we's_ her master. Not you. It means she'll always be loyal to _us_ — and us alone. 'Less we give 'er to ya, all legal-like." He leveled them with his most confident stare. "But guess what? _She ain't for sale_."

The Virox leader lowered his gun.

"Says you!" shouted the smallest of the human slave patrollers, jumping up and grabbing Seo by the arm. "He's just a slave. _I_ own this one. All mine. And you gotta pay me—"

He was incinerated on the spot.

"Pink-skinned scum," the Virox leader growled. The Virox leader turned back to Joshua. "You must be the ruler of the human race," he observed. "The one who owns the Weapon. For you are the one who demands her loyalty and allegiance, beyond all others."

"Every slave must obey their master," Joshua agreed.

The Virox leader growled. Then put back up his gun, charging it up and pointing it right at Joshua's head. "The girl is a time traveler, who has set foot in the Virox Empire. Therefore, you will surrender her to—"

"I said she ain't for sale!" Joshua shouted. Advancing forwards, finger pointed in the Virox leader's face. "And if you wanna see your world, again, you better get gone. Fore I send 'er after ya."

"Better do what he says," said Seo, in a soft, cold voice, as she stood beside Joshua. Placing an arm on his shoulder, protectively. "After all. I take my orders from one person, and one person alone. And you definitely don't want to make that person angry."

The Virox troops began edging back.

The Virox leader stood his ground, attempting to reassert control of the situation. "The recapture of the girl will result in ten percent—"

"And that's going to count for nothing," said Seo, "after I lay waste to your whole Empire. Isn't it?"

The Virox leader hesitated.

"Well?" said Seo. "What are you sticking around for?" Her voice dropped. "Want to test out just how much of a genocidal killing machine I actually am?"

Which was when the entire landscape exploded behind him. Mud splattering through the air, as the Virox shrieked, and scattered. The leader himself going magenta, as he stared at Seo. Unsure how she'd managed to do that, using no hidden electronics or triggering mechanisms, and standing so far away.

Then he turned and ran, too.

Seo took a breath of relief. A grin spreading across her face.

"About time!" she called out.

Dawn emerged from her hiding spot, hacking and coughing from the gunpowder. "Okay, _you_ try stealing a bunch of gunpowder from those Union guys," she said, managing to steady herself. "They're super stingy with the mega artillery."

They both smiled at each other. Then ran over and wrapped one another in a tight embrace. Laughing in relief, as the Virox ship took off, in the sky, overhead, and disappeared.

They stopped laughing. As the metallic end of a musket touched the back of Dawn's neck.

"Don't move," said a Confederate soldier. "We overheard everything."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! I think I forgot to update, yesterday. And nearly did so again, today! Thanks to Difficat, by the way, who commented with a very lovely review about this story, which made me remember that I hadn't updated it, yet!

The three runaways had been secured, with Dawn, in a heavily guarded prison cell. With men pointing muskets in at them, ready to fire at any moment.

Seo stood in her own prison cell, opposite theirs. Hands on the bars. Eyes fixed on her friends.

She didn't move. Or speak.

As the last remaining slave patroller, and a group of Confederate soldiers explained to Colonel Benjamin Alston exactly what they'd learned about her, and what they'd seen.

"We checked, too," said the slave patroller. "She ain't human. Like they said." He looked smug. "Two hearts."

"A weapon?" said Colonel Alston. "A created person, constructed same way you'd construct a cannon?" He examined Seo, carefully. "How's that even possible?"

Seo met his eyes with her own. "Magic."

The humans in the room all tried to suppress their laughter.

Colonel Alston wasn't laughing. He was taking in everything that Seo was, everything he'd just heard, with a steadfast seriousness.

"I'm not a weapon created by your enemies," Seo told him. "I've got nothing to do with this war. I'm—"

"From the future," Colonel Alston dismissed. "A time traveler. We've heard." He shook his head. "Can scarcely believe it, myself. But it's the only way it all makes sense. A weapon created by those in the future, to win some future battle."

He paced the room, slowly, in front of her. Absorbing all of this.

"Created by humans," said Colonel Alston. "To serve humans. Strong, powerful, smart. Inhuman, but enslaved to humanity." He laughed. "Sounds like you ain't just a product of future humanity. You're a product of ours. The Confederacy, in its own future."

"What's a… 'Confederacy'?" said Seo.

"Our country," said Colonel Alston. "This country. The one we're fighting this war of independence to create, which…"

"War of independence?" said Seo, suddenly working it out. "Ah. I see." She leaned in, her voice growing that much lower. "Thing is... I _am_ from the future, Colonel Alston. From after this war's already over. And I've never heard of any country calling itself 'the Confederacy'."

Every single person in the room went deathly silent.

"And I'm not sad about that, either," Seo continued. "Know why?" She glanced over at her friends. "Because Joshua, over there, saved all your lives. Saved the world. And you still see him as something to be bought and sold."

"He ain't smart enough ta save the world," said the slave patroller. "Just a pain-in-the-ass slave. Can't even read nor write."

Joshua gave them a glare that could melt steel. But chose to save his words for when they'd actually make a difference.

"Really?" said Seo. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He worked out I wasn't human. Worked out who made me. Worked out what would make those Virox go running." She quirked an eyebrow at her captors. "None of the rest of you managed to work out any of that before he told you."

"You've made your point," said Colonel Alston. He clasped his hands behind his back, eyes fixed firmly on Seo. "It's not him I'm interested in. It's you."

Seo didn't answer.

"They say you can wipe out whole worlds," said Colonel Alston. "That monsters whose guns make folk vanish flee from you in terror." He took a step forwards. "Seems to me… if you can do that… wipin' out the Union army'd be nothin' to you."

"Sorry," said Seo, shaking her head. "I don't think so."

Colonel Alston surveyed Seo, interestedly. "Don't you?"

Dawn jumped to her feet. "Geeze, what the hell is wrong with you people?" she shouted. "Seo's not a robot or anything. She's not going to do something just because you say. If you're expecting her to change history and make you win this war, she won't do it."

Colonel Alston looked between Seo and Dawn.

"She's right," said Seo. "I won't."

Colonel Alston didn't seem concerned. "Kill one of the slaves," he commanded. Glancing over. "The smart one. She likes him."

The echo of shouts and protests rung out through the prison, and Dawn just barely managed to push Joshua out of the way of the shot in time. She turned on the musket-bearing men, fury in her eyes.

"He saved the world, you jerk!" Dawn shouted.

The man was about to shoot again, but was stayed by a command from Colonel Alston. Who was watching Seo fume inside her cell.

"These three," explained Colonel Alston, "are runaway slaves. They should be shot for their crime. Or punished severely. But I've shown leniency. Pending your cooperation, of course." He stared Seo right in the eye. "So. You gonna do what we say?"

* * *

"Oh, my God," Dawn kept muttering, pacing her cell, hands running through her hair. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God."

The others all looked on at her, not sure what to say.

"I'm, like, the anti-Martin-Luther-King," said Dawn. "I mean, here I am, trying to be all superhero! And I wind up being the person who changes history so slavery never ends."

"The Confederates ain't won, yet, Miss Dawn," said Solomon.

Dawn wasn't placated. "We've just given them Seo," she said. "Trust me. Either the South's gonna win this thing, or Seo's going to flip out and destroy the whole Confederate army in about thirty seconds. In 1861." She shook her head. "And if you guys haven't heard of the whole emancipation proclamation thingy… that means it hasn't gotten passed, yet. And if it's not passed when the Civil War ends, then…"

No end to slavery.

No civil rights movement in the 60's.

And serious screwed-uppedness for basically all of history.

"It don' make sense," Mary insisted. "That girl bein' a weapon. Bein' made, same way you'd make a steam engine or sew a dress."

"Uh, yeah, there are a lot of things about Seo that don't make sense," Dawn agreed. "All I know is what the sales brochure says." Her eyes stared off into the distance. Reciting what she'd heard them read out, on Varoxia 7. The words that had been seared into her mind, too deep to let go. "Biological engineered super weapon and genocide machine. Can also travel through time. Smart. Strong. Resourceful. Guaranteed to wipe out any and all adversaries of your choice in a single go."

"You really think she'd do it?" asked Joshua. "Kill entire species?"

Dawn sighed. "I dunno. Maybe?" She slumped down on the bench. "I haven't really been traveling with her that long or anything. But Buffy — her mom — gave me warnings." She shrugged. "And if I'm threatened to make her cooperate... I mean, Seo gets pretty protective of her family."

Joshua laughed, shook his head. "Nah," he decided. "I don' buy it."

"You don't buy it?" Dawn shouted. Feeling something rise in her throat. "Don't buy what? That she loves her family? That she's a real person? That she's just as good as any normal human being, even though…?!"

"Don' buy that she's a machine designed to kill," said Joshua. He shrugged. "Seen killers. Even them that thinks shootin' slaves in the head ain't really murder. She ain't like that." He looked over at Dawn. "Ain't got killer's eyes."

Dawn didn't know what to say to this.

"She's got a soul, right?" Mary chimed in.

Dawn nodded.

"Then it don' matter who made 'er," Mary decided. "Could be the devil 'imself created 'er, and it won't make one lick 'o difference. She still has the chance ta choose right or wrong."

Dawn was actually kind of floored. These guys were from the 19th century, totally uneducated, and had just met an alien who was created to be a Hell-Goddess-Destroying-Super-Weapon — and they were actually pretty cool with it.

"You're surprised?" Solomon asked Dawn.

"Um… no, I mean, yeah, I mean…" Dawn tried to collect her thoughts. "Sorry. This has been a really long day. You guys have no idea…" She stopped short. "Uh, actually, scratch that. You guys probably have a lot more idea than me, huh?"

They all nodded.

Dawn slumped down against the far wall. "The thing is… Seo _is_ scary," she admitted. "I mean, she's totally sweet and nice, too. Don't get me wrong! But she scared the hell out of both the Powers that Be and the First Evil. We're talking serious power." She sighed. "There's a reason those Virox were terrified of her."

"Them monsters wasn't scared o' her," Joshua corrected. "They was scared o' _us._ " He crossed his arms. "They thought we was her masters."

Damn, this guy was smart.

"She scared 'em off," said Solomon. "Made 'em run."

Joshua thought this over. Then shook his head. "Nah," he decided. "They wasn't runnin' off scared. I reckon they was runnin' off to get _their_ master."

Dawn's eyes widened, as she realized… Joshua was right.

The Virox wouldn't have chased Seo across all those light years just to let her scare them off, now, this easily! If she'd been sold to the Emperor…

Then the Virox were going back to get the Emperor.

And his armies.

Dawn buried her face in her hands. "So I haven't just stopped the emancipation proclamation," she said. "I've enslaved the entire human race to the Virox Emperor!"

Not even a week spent traveling through time, and she'd already managed to end the world in the 19th century.

Way to go, Dawn.


	4. Chapter 4

No one had taken Colonel Alston seriously, of course.

He'd known they wouldn't. Known he'd need to show a definite victory over the Yankees before Robert E. Lee believed that one small-looking girl could wipe out an entire population.

But Colonel Alston had seen something in the girl's eyes. Saw something, when he'd been staring her down. And that same something, when he'd almost killed the slave.

He didn't doubt she could do what the others claimed.

Alston watched her, as she wove her trap for the Yankees. As she examined the battlefield carefully to understand exactly how it sloped and how muddy it could get at different times of the day. As she created her machinery to surround the battlefield at different points.

As she outlined the trap she was setting for the Yankees.

"I need Dawn," she said. "She's the bait."

Alston was reluctant to release Miss Summers. After all, while the others were just slaves, Miss Summers was still a lady. A dissident, a rogue, and a criminal — but an ordinary, human young lady. And he wouldn't go puttin' no ladies in danger's way.

"Dawn knows the future," Seo explained. "She's been through school, and learned every single way in which the Union wins this war. What's more, she's already run into the Union forces, and had to escape from them. Which means… they know she knows the future. They'll come after her, to learn her secrets."

"If she has such secrets," said Alston, "hadn't we Confederates better use them?"

"You Confederates have something better than secrets," said Seo. "You've got _me_."

And so Alston released Dawn Summers to be the bait in the trap.

"What do you mean, I know history?" Dawn shouted, struggling as she was released. "I skipped history class, like, every day! I told you, no HBO mini-series — no idea!"

Alston didn't know what an 'HBO mini-series' was. But that didn't matter.

He brought her out, into the middle of the trap.

And waited.

Waited.

Waited.

* * *

The Yankees struck.

And Colonel Alston and his men were ready.

Watched as the Yankees struggled to make their muskets work, but were unable to do so. Charged, as the Yankees were still trying to work out what was happening.

Never had a victory been so easy!

* * *

"Okay, I've got no clue how you did this," Dawn said to Seo, as they raced away from the battlefield. "But it's hella funny."

Around them, the Confederate troops were completely convinced they were fighting off the Union army. Despite the fact that, first of all, the Union troops were nowhere near here, anymore — hence, how Dawn had escaped — and, second of all, the so-called 'Union troops' had landed there in an alien space craft, were armed to the teeth with alien guns, and had bright purple-skin and three arms.

The aliens' guns didn't work. Nor did any of their other high tech stuff — probably due to something Seo did, Dawn guessed.

And since they'd been relying on their superior technology, this meant they were totally defenseless. And had no backup plan.

The Confederacy mowed them down.

"You spiked the Confederates' drinking water, huh?" said Dawn.

"Course not!" Seo insisted. "Just sent out a repeated alpha wave. Making them think they were fighting whoever they expected to be fighting."

Dawn glanced back over her shoulder, as they left the battlefield.

"Weird thing is," she muttered, beneath the clap of muskets and cannons, "I thought the Emperor of the Virox would have a lot more troops than this."

"Sorry?" said Seo. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Dawn dismissed. "Never mind. Not important."

* * *

Joshua hid the wire he'd been using to cut the bars, moment he heard the authorities comin' back to check on 'em. Sat back in a corner, pretendin' to be too stupid to do nothin', as the door banged open.

Joshua went very still.

As a crowd of purple monsters came in, instead.

The Emperor — cause that's what he had to be, all dressed up fine and fancy-like — stepped forwards, surveyin' the three of 'em, cooped up in a cell.

"And so the true leaders of Earth sit in their panic room," said the Emperor, "while their pink-skinned servants fight their battles for them. Pathetic."

He gestured at one of his servants, beside him, who aimed a device at the lock of the prison cell. The lock seared, and then burned away into nothing. The door swinging open.

Joshua stood up. Facing them.

He'd been a slave all his life.

And now… up to him to save the world.

"It has come to my attention," said the Emperor of the Virox, "that my people have been trading in stolen goods. A certain… created person… has fallen into our kingdom. A runaway, I believe, from yours. And I bought her."

"She ain't yers to buy," Joshua snapped. Tryin' his best to sound regal, like he thought a ruler of the world should sound. "She's ours. N you won't—"

"Yes, I do understand that," said the Emperor, brushing off the comment with an air of disinterest. "And as revolting as it is to enter into negotiations with primates not even worthy of being the empire's slaves, the Shadow Proclamation does insist that we Virox abide by their laws. Therefore, if the girl is yours… then I believe this sum of money must be paid to you."

He nodded at the group around him.

Who carried forwards more gold and gems and precious jewels than Joshua had ever seen, before. More than fit in the room. Enough that Solomon and Mary's jaws dropped, and Joshua could scarcely keep his from doing the same.

But he did.

Didn' buy any of these lies for a minute.

"You don' care about no 'Shadow Proclamation'," said Joshua. He didn' know what a Shadow Proclamation was, but he was bettin' he were right, based on the way them aliens sneered every time they said it. "Why you wanna buy 'er out from us, all legal-like, stead of just takin' her and burnin' our world to ash?"

"Because it is to my advantage to enter into negotiations with you," said the Emperor, "instead of the slavers who sold her. My immense advantage." He opened up a piece of paper, surveying it. "Her ultimate value was set at 9 billion Cairosiers, a fraction of which you see in front of you, the rest to be paid upon receipt of the goods. Along with the exchange of three star systems." He handed the paper to his second-in-command. "But you primitives haven't ventured into the stars, yet. You have no use for star systems. And so… I can make you an offer I feel would better benefit both of us."

So he was bein' all legal-like because it was _cheaper_.

Made sense.

Joshua could see the logic behind that.

The Emperor took up a long contract, written in incomprehensible alien-looking scribbles which Joshua ain't never seen before, and couldn't read.

"This contract," said the Emperor, raising it up, "guarantees Earth's sovereignty and independence, forever in the future of the Virox Empire. We will conquer this galaxy and countless others beyond, with our new Weapon, turn every other race into our slaves — but Earth will forever be spared. You and your people will be free."

"Free," Joshua repeated.

The word resonated through him. More than jewels or gold or anything else.

Freedom.

That's what the deal really was. After all. With this much wealth, Joshua could buy back his own freedom from the white men who owned him. Could go North. Get educated. Learn all the hows and whys of the world, which he'd always wanted to learn, ever since he was little.

And Mary and Solomon… why, they could buy their own freedom. Their kids' freedom. Could be happy, settle down with a fortune and a family.

Heck, with this much money, Joshua could buy the freedom of every slave down South!

Joshua imagined it. A free world. With all peoples able to live peaceful, quiet lives. No white folk huntin' 'em down with whips 'n brands. No monsters comin' through from other worlds. No one of any sort tellin' 'em what they had to do or who their master was.

Joshua wanted that. Wanted it so badly, it hurt.

Freedom for all.

'N all Joshua had to do… to get it… was sell off someone he scarcely knew.

The door burst open, once more, and this time, Seo and Dawn rushed into the room. Stopped, the moment they saw the purple-skinned monsters, their faces turning horrified. Tried to turn and run, but were quickly caught and restrained.

Joshua looked at 'em. For the first time, he wasn't a slave. He was ruler of the world. 'N it were up to him to decide the fates of these two lil' ladies.

All up to him.

"What happens to 'em," Joshua asked, voice trembling, "if I do agree?"

Something hard and cold passed across the Emperor's face. "What do you do to any runaway slave?" he said. Turned back to Seo, regarding her as if she were simply a possession he'd bought. An object. "It's said she has regenerative powers," he mused. "I wonder how far that extends."

"I bet it doesn't extend to you getting your face bashed in," Dawn snapped.

The Emperor surveyed Dawn, carefully. "As for this one… I'll ship her off somewhere else. Far away. She could be useful in the mines on Xotilfo's moon. Until the residual time energy she carries is depleted, of course, and she becomes worthless."

Seo looked out at Joshua. Through pleading, sad brown eyes. Desperation running through her, as she reached for her aunt.

Joshua looked around him. At the wealth. The freedom that could be his. Freedom for the whole world. For everyone. Forever. Only cost 'im two lil' ladies, doomed to be separated forever.

Joshua grabbed up the Emperor's contract in his hands. Then, staring the Emperor right in the eye, tore it into tiny pieces.

"No," he said.

The Emperor's purple face flared with anger. "No?!"

"My ma and pa was sold down the river," Joshua said. "When I was a boy. 'N I ain't gonna see it happen to no one else." He pointed at Dawn and Seo. "Them two's family." He leaned in, his voice hard. "And they ain't fer sale."

The Emperor reached for a gun, pointed it at Joshua. "Then you die."

"Then I die a good 'n honest man," said Joshua.

Saw Seo struggle, and manage to free herself, lunging for the Emperor to try and stop him. Caught 'er eyes, the ones he knew ain't killer's eyes. Never would be killer's eyes.

Last thing he saw, before the light consumed 'im.


	5. Chapter 5

Seo stood in the spot where Joshua had been vaporized. A steady rage tearing across her, as she took in the immense injustice of what had just happened. As it burned in her eyes — the eyes that Joshua had claimed were not killer's eyes.

Joshua. Who'd given up his life for her freedom.

Seo squeezed her eyes shut. Her breathing so pained, it was audible.

Then…

It all stopped, as an easy coldness washed across Seo. As she looked up at the Emperor. And smiled. A tiny, cold, hard smile.

Edged with just a flash of something that made a shiver run down Dawn's spine.

"You know that thing with worms," Seo said, her voice far too light, as she advanced on the Emperor, "where you tear them in half, and you get two?" She kicked out, knocking the gun out of the Emperor's hands. "I've always wanted to try that."

The guard beside the Emperor jerked his gun into life, but Seo slammed into him, twisting the guard's gun around so it was pointed directly into his face just as he pulled the trigger, the blast burning him away before he could register what was happening.

The gun dropped neatly into Seo's hands. And she turned back to the Emperor.

Every single other weapon in the room was trained directly on Seo. And the Emperor activated his weapon-blast-proof mini-force-field, which he'd brought along for just this purpose.

"But then ripping people apart isn't really my style," Seo continued. "I'm more the sort of person who uses a magnifying glass to burn ants." She twisted the gun upwards, yanked on a few settings, and then blasted at the ceiling.

It seared, red and hot, then seemed to turn translucent, the force of her gun making it drip upwards like a dome of molten glass.

And, as Seo stopped firing, it solidified.

Beneath the noon-day sun.

A perfect lens. Focusing the sun's rays directly on the Emperor, burning through the force-field. Making him writhe and scream, as he burst into flame.

Seo turned to the others. All staring, unsure what to do, as the Emperor died.

She had killer's eyes, now.

"Hadn't you lot better start running?" Seo demanded.

"You killed our emperor!" shouted one of them. "You…!"

"Let me rephrase that," said Seo. She yanked up the remains of the Emperor's force-field, crammed it into the top of the gun, and then rearranged a few items. "Your Emperor's force-field was set to protect Virox DNA. I've just plugged that DNA code into this vaporizer gun." She yanked the last lever out, and set the gun on the ground. "Now it's a bomb. And any Virox still on this planet after sixty seconds is going to be dead."

The Virox stared.

"So… RUN!" Seo shouted.

And they did.

For good, this time. Ran far, far away. Ran to their ship, fleeing in terror, never to return.

* * *

"But what about the Confederate army?" Dawn asked. "Aren't they going to be really mad that we're escaping, and try to use you as a weapon to…?"

She stopped. As the battlefield came into sight. And she noticed the entire army pounding their fists against an invisible force-bubble that was surrounding the battleground.

"It'll last until some outsider comes by and smashes up the machinery," said Seo, with a shrug.

"And if no one does?" said Dawn.

Seo paused a moment. Looking on at the enraged and trapped soldiers. Something dark and icy flooded her face.

Then she turned.

And left.

* * *

When they got back and Seo's ship was all fixed up, Seo had attempted to resume her previous happy lightheartedness. Babbling on about improving her sonic lock-pick so it could actually unscrew screws and things!

But Dawn could see, in Seo's eyes, that she was still angry. _Really_ angry.

And not just at the Virox.

"Mary and Solomon have all that gold and stuff, now," Dawn assured her. "They'll get their kids back."

Seo's eyes went even darker, and she slammed down her fist on the central console. "That was America," she said, through her teeth. " _My_ country. Where I was born. The place that lets kids be torn away from their parents."

"Look, I'm not going to say the US is perfect or anything," said Dawn, with a sigh. "I mean, yeah. We made mistakes. Big mistakes." She shuddered. "Super duper creepy mistakes."

Seo didn't offer any argument.

"But we learn, and fix stuff," said Dawn. "And Americans are pretty cool. I mean, look at Joshua. He was an American! He was offered everything he ever wanted — and he gave it up for you."

"They didn't think of him as an American," said Seo. Shook her head. "They didn't even think of him as a person."

"Yeah, but I do," said Dawn. "And history does, when you look back." She leaned against the central console, a pensive look spreading across her face. "Maybe… that's what it really means to be an American. It means doing what Joshua did — facing up to the mistakes and injustice and inequality and overall suckiness of the past. And deciding… it's your duty to fix it. Step in where it counts and really make a difference, even if that's dangerous."

Seo met Dawn's eyes. A spark of hope shining inside of them. "Is that what other Americans do?"

"Hey, my home town elected Mayor Richard Wilkins," said Dawn. "Serious mistake. But then we all got together and beat back the First. Stood up for what was right, in the end, so we could save the world."

Seo didn't answer.

She was still super with the upsetness.

"I know!" said Dawn. "Why don't we go to whenever Martin Luther King gave that 'I Have a Dream' speech? That'd be mega inspiring!"

"Where and when was that?" asked Seo.

Dawn opened her mouth. Then stopped.

"Actually… until HBO makes a mini-series about it," Dawn said, "I have absolutely no idea."


	6. Freedom

Dawn stepped out of the glass ship. Face breaking into a large smile, as she recognized the place in front of her. Notre Dame Cathedral. The little streets and the sounds of French culture all around her.

Oh, God! They'd landed in Paris! That rocked!

"What is this 'Dream' speech, anyways?" asked Seo, following her aunt outside, and locking the door behind them. "Is this one of those things I'd know about if I'd done my homework?"

"Actually… I'm pretty sure we're not gonna see Martin Luther King here," said Dawn. Looking at the people around her. "Just… judging by the old-style clothing. And by the fact that we're in Paris."

Seo looked around herself. Nodding, slowly, as she absorbed this.

Dawn's smile faded, as a sort of unease settled across her. Watching the large group of people scurrying around Paris, going about their day-to-day lives, she couldn't help but feel like… something was… wrong.

"We should leave," Seo muttered.

Dawn turned back to Seo. Staring. "Wait, seriously?"

Seo shrugged.

"If there's something wrong, aren't you mega-curious about what…?" Dawn stopped, as a woman pushed past her.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle!" the woman called back, hurrying off into the distance.

Dawn blinked. Then blinked again.

As it crashed on top of her, what was wrong.

"Hang on," said Dawn. "They're all speaking French!"

Seo grabbed Dawn by the arm, trying to drag her back into the ship. "We can stop by a library," she offered. "Try to work out where and when this Martin Luther King of yours made his speech. Turn it into a day trip. We can—"

"Why isn't your ship translating stuff?" Dawn cut in.

Seo froze. Her cheeks turning red. "It... must be… broken?" she tried.

"But you said the translation was done with major telepathy things," said Dawn, "using that bit of TARDIS coral in the console. So why's it… conking out… on us…?"

Dawn drifted off.

As the blush increased on Seo's face.

"Oh, my God," Dawn said. "The translation thing works using _you_ , huh?"

Seo turned away.

"And the reason it doesn't know French," Dawn concluded, "is because you don't speak it."


	7. Chapter 7

"It's not that big a deal, is it?" Seo asked, leaning over the table to whisper in the café. "I know lots of other languages."

No. It was just… kind of… weird.

"Why do you know how to speak Snake and Bird and about a thousand kinds of alien," said Dawn, "and you don't know how to speak French? I mean, even _I_ know how to speak French!"

Okay, granted, Dawn's French vocabulary was basically limited to the adventures of Jean-Paul and Luc from her high school textbook, both of whom had spent their leisure time talking about how they were doing super cool things like going to 'la discothéque' and sitting around cafés ordering 'des croque monsieurs'.

"Couldn't we just go somewhere else?" Seo pleaded.

"Nope!" Dawn decided. "If you don't know French, we're staying here until you learn it."

Which, Dawn assured herself, had everything to do with her being a responsible aunt who wanted the best for her niece. And definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Dawn had always wanted to visit Paris, and couldn't wait to get out there and do some serious sight-seeing.

"When are we?" said Seo. She glanced at the streets around them. "Everyone seems a little… frantic."

Dawn shrugged. "I couldn't get a year," she admitted. "Whenever I asked, people just kept telling me it was 'Year One'. But I think it's about 200 years before I was born, or something. Like… around Jane Austin times." Her eyes drifted off into the distance. "You know. With people being all happy splendor and ballrooms and parties and dancing with Colin Firth."

"Year… One?" asked Seo, in a soft voice. She shuddered. "I've heard another time when people called it that. Year One. Day Zero. The end of the world."

But Dawn wasn't listening, anymore. Her mind had been sent into a spin of imagination, picturing dancing with Colin Firth.

Ooh…

Dreamy…

"I think we should leave," Seo whispered.

Dawn snapped out of her fantasy.

"No," she said. "We're definitely staying here in Firthland… I mean Paris. Totally."

* * *

Dawn had tried her best to stick with Seo, since she knew the language and had the superior pick-pocket skills. But the crowd was seriously worked up about something, and people were rushing around being frantic and shouting out things in French that Dawn couldn't pick up.

And no one seemed even remotely interested in helping her see all the touristy places.

She asked one guy where the Louvre was, and the guy started screaming at her, and almost attacked her. Geeze! She didn't know seeing the Mona Lisa was such a controversial topic.

"Okay," Dawn said, turning to Seo. "Maybe we shouldn't do the Louvre museum. Maybe we should just…"

But Seo was gone.

Nowhere to be seen.

Dawn dropped all tourism aspirations. Searching through the crowds, frantically. "Seo?" she called. "Seo!"

Nothing.

But the crowd had started looking at her all weirdly, with terrible expressions in their eyes. They were all whispering something about the Louvre and immigrants and things, and… Dawn was starting to get the impression that maybe touring France 200 years ago hadn't been the best idea.

Then the crowd began screaming, advancing on her in a murderous mob.

Dawn turned. And ran.

Sprinted down the streets and across the alleys, doing every evasive maneuver she'd ever learned outrunning vampires and demons. But she could hear them gaining on her, shouting things that sounded like, "émigrée!" and "monarchiste!" and "Angletere!"

What the hell?

"I'm not English! I'm—!" Dawn shouted back.

But was grabbed by the arm, and dragged out of the mob's line of sight. Was jerked away from the angry people, and dragged down a hole in the streets, tumbling down into a dark, lightless place.

"Shh…" came a soft voice, beside her.

The sounds of the mob thundering above died down, and left only silence.

Someone nearby struck a match, and Dawn gasped, as she came face-to-face with a tunnel lined with bones and skulls of the dead. And two others who were alive — a man and a woman, both dressed in clothes that looked like they'd once been fine, but were now ragged and worn and dirty.

They were talking to one another in French, which was all going by too rapidly for Dawn to process.

The woman turned to Dawn. "Êtes-vous d'Angleterre?"

Uh…

Okay, then…

Dawn scrambled to recall high school French lessons. How do you say, _I've lost my niece_?She couldn't remember that. High school French had been way too long ago — and Dawn had purposely flunked it, after learning she was the Key, just to spite Buffy.

So… yeah. Didn't remember how to say she'd lost her niece. But Dawn did remember how to ask for a croissant. It couldn't be that different!

"Je… voudrais… mon…" Dawn stopped. Realized she didn't remember the word for niece. "…companion."

More French talking that Dawn didn't understand. A lot of: "Elle a perdu son compagne," and "Qui est son compagne?" and stuff.

Then the woman turned to her, and, in heavily accented English, said, "We will help."

Dawn looked around herself. Shuddering, as she saw all the bones and skulls and things surrounding them. Heard the mice and rats scuttling around by their feet.

"Can you help in a place a little less creepy?" she asked.

The woman frowned, not understanding the words.

"Somewhere without the bones?" Dawn clarified, gesturing at the bones around them.

"Les catacombes," the woman understood. She shook her head, sadly. "We must hide. The people… don't like us."

More French from Dawn's new friends, but this time, when they spoke, Dawn could understand more and more. Like she was picking it up, faster than she ever had picked up any language before. Seo's influence, Dawn guessed. And then the words started morphing, interspersed with perfectly translated English phrases. A translation so perfect and unaccented that it was pretty clearly being caused by the telepathic circuits, themselves.

So… Seo was definitely alive, then.

And learning French.

But judging by the words the translation circuit was picking up — 'revolutionary', 'democracy and freedom for all', and a whole bunch of economic stuff about the price of bread — Seo's French lessons weren't starting with finding 'la discothéque'. No. Seo's French lessons seemed way more about revolutions and freedom for all citizens, and Marie Antoinette, and…

Wait a second.

"Is there a revolution going on, or something?" asked Dawn, a little nervously. "Like… a whole let-them-eat-cake style revolution?"

The man and woman she'd hidden with looked at her like she was stupid for not knowing any of that, before.

"Oh, God," Dawn breathed. "You sure can pick 'em, Dawn."


	8. Chapter 8

The children were hungry.

Seo could see it. The sunken eyes, the horrible hunger lingering in their faces. Their parents were screaming and fighting and racing off to cry for blood, but these children were back here, still starving. Still dying.

So Seo walked into a bakery. Tried to do everything Dawn had taught her about shoplifting. Stole a baguette. And gave it to the hungry children.

At which point, Seo learned the French words for, "Stop, thief!" and "Police!"

The children, terrified, ran off, as Seo was apprehended. A crowd gathering around, people shouting at her in a mix of completely incomprehensible words. She gritted her teeth. She knew she should have stuck with Dawn. Dawn knew French. Dawn had money she'd pick-pocketed from someone else. She could argue with these guys.

"I save the world a lot, free of charge!" Seo tried to shout at them. "Doesn't that entitle me to give starving children something to eat?"

But now they were picking at her clothing — still the same clothing she'd stolen from Missouri, all nice-looking and neat, with flowing skirts and a nicely tailored bodice.

These people were all starving, wearing dirty, poor clothes. Seo, by contrast, was well-fed and healthy looking, wearing nice clothing. Clothing from the future.

Seo knew this one.

She didn't stand a chance.

Then, abruptly, all the shouting stopped.

Everyone moving aside, to make way for a young man wearing a white wig and black suit, his face bent in interest and curiosity, words pouring from his mouth in what sounded like a rush of excuses, as he kept glancing at Seo.

He stood in front of the crowd, his voice washing across them like a burst of fresh air, and the crowd breathed in his every word. Lingered on his every syllable.

Seo began to pick up the words — faster than she ever had picked up a language before, come to think of it. (She supposed that was Dawn's doing.) She listened as the man spoke about wheat and stacking up bread while children die of hunger, outside a shop. About the inviolable rights of men everywhere. About how the baker was guilty of fratricide, while the young lady standing beside himself was a righteous upholder of the rights of man.

"Vive la republique!" shouted the man, at the end, raising up his fist.

"Liberté! Equalité! Fraternité!" the crowd all shouted back, in jubilation. And then they dispersed, letting Seo go, their anger quelled and their hope stirred.

Seo turned to the man who'd saved her, a little stunned.

"I apologize," the young man said, in heavily accented English. "The people have trouble distinguishing between an English monarchist, and an American with democratic ideals." He took her hand in his, and kissed the back. "And one so beautiful as you, who gives bread to starving children no matter what the risks — that is a rarity, Mademoiselle. Truly, a rarity."

Seo absorbed all of this, trying to mesh it all inside her mind. "This is a revolution to overthrow the king," she realized. "Replace monarchy with democracy. Equality for all, under the law. Helping the lower classes to be represented." She looked around herself, her eyes falling into sadness. "Then why so many starving children?"

"The shortages are man-made shortages," said the man. "The soil of France produces much beyond what is needed. But the laws made under aristocratic despotism still linger, and still keep the people hungry." His eyes blazed with passion, as his voice rose, and he slipped into French, Seo struggling to pick up the language. "Are the French people made to drag themselves in a servile fashion in the ruts of tyrannical prejudices traced by those who came before us? No! We are made to be free!"

Those in the streets nearby cheered.

Seo thought of Joshua. That wonderful man — a slave thrown down by society — who'd saved the world and stuck to his morals, even when it meant costing him everything. A man none of those in charge of his society appreciated.

"People deserve to be free," Seo agreed. "Everyone."

The man seemed to notice the sincerity in her eyes. The deep sorrow in her voice. "You have seen what it means to be oppressed," he said, in English. He analyzed her, more closely. "No. More than that. You have been oppressed, yourself. You know what it is to starve. To fight for freedom."

Seo bit her lower lip. Said nothing.

"Come with me, Mademoiselle," said the man. Then, announcing to the crowd, in French, "And let it be known that any American who comes to help is a friend of the Incorruptible!"

The crowd cheered, as Seo was led off.

"You're 'incorruptible'?" Seo asked. Quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"That is what they call me," the man replied. He gave her a gentle smile. "You, Mademoiselle, may call me… Maximilien."

* * *

Yeah, Seo was definitely picking up French pretty quickly. Judging by the fact that, as they continued through the catacombs, Dawn could understand more and more of what these guys were saying.

They seemed to be sure she was some super-important person from England, come to help them rethrone the king.

"I'm not from England," Dawn insisted. "I'm an American, okay? I'm not any part of this whole revolution thing, and I just want to go home."

They turned on her. Suspicion igniting in their eyes.

"An American," said the man. "A believer in democracy. Who has suddenly learned to speak very good French."

Oh. Damn.

"I got French lessons when I was a kid, and it took a while for it to come back to me," Dawn said, hunting for excuses that would sound half-way believable. "But it's getting better, over time, and… uh…" She noticed the ever increasing fury on the man's face. "…this is the part where you guys accuse me of being a spy and try to kill me, huh?"

Dawn raised her hands, backing away from them. Seeing the glint of a gun. Oh, God. Down here, in the dark, running away from guns… there was no way she'd make it out, alive.

Good one, Dawn.

The woman stepped in between the man and Dawn. "I won't let you kill another in cold blood," she said. She gestured to Dawn. "Look at her! Has she not been persecuted, like us? Wrongfully chased down and executed for the crimes of others?"

"Look at her clothing!" said the man. "Not damaged or even dirty. She is a Jacobin spy, sent down here to find us and hand us over to the mob."

"And for that we should kill her?" The woman's eyes were dark. Angry. "I won't be responsible for the murder of another. I refuse to lower myself to the base hatred and aggression of the rabble."

The man with the gun stared the woman down. Then sighed, and dropped the gun barrel. "You have a good heart, Christine," he said. "And someday, that heart will cause both our deaths."

Christine turned to Dawn. Extending a hand in friendship. "Please, forgive my brother. He is only frightened."

Dawn felt her heart pounding in her throat. So she was in the middle of the French Revolution, and had managed to get herself tied in with the upper-class, deposed people? Wow. How'd she done that?

"You are an American?" said Christine's brother. "Like Thomas Paine?" He stepped forwards, his face angry. "Then I demand an answer from you."

Christine tried to hold him back, but he pushed past, advancing on Dawn.

"Why do you insist that your 'democracy' works," the man demanded, "when all your talk of 'constitutions' and 'assemblies' has only resulted in more shortages? When you must use us as scapegoats, to placate the mob and stop them from tearing down a system that doesn't work!"

Dawn cringed, beneath his shouting. "It… works in the US," she offered.

Not really sure what else to say.

"You say equality for all!" the man continued to rant. He gestured around himself. "Is this equality? Forcing us to hide down here, under the streets of Paris, surrounded by squalor and the bones of the long-dead? Hunting us down for the crime of being born into noble families!"

"Look, I'm not the one hunting you down!" Dawn shouted, back. "I didn't want anything to do with this stuff, okay? I just wanted my niece to learn French, and we wound up coming here at a really bad time. I just want to find her. I just…!"

Dawn struggled to banish tears. Here she was, with Buffy trusting her to look after Seo and keep her out of trouble, and Dawn had dragged her into the Civil War and the French Revolution.

"I was a trouble-magnet when I was a kid," Dawn said, "and I guess I'm still just as much of a trouble-magnet, now." She shook her head. "But I shouldn't have dragged Seo into it."

God, she hoped Seo was okay, and not locked up in the Bastille or anything.

Christine looked over at her brother. Determination in her eyes. "We must help her find her niece," she said. "Leave the country. She can tell others what's happening, here. She can get help!"

"And you expect her to succeed where so many others have failed?" said Christine's brother. "The radicals have taken over, the King is a prisoner, stripped of his honor and title, and Paris is at the mercy of the mob." He clenched his fist around his bayonet. "A mob swayed far too easily by the words of the so-called 'Incorruptible'."

"Perhaps she can!" Christine insisted.

Dawn felt her head spinning. "I'm sure I should know this," she said. "But… who's 'the Incorruptible'?"

Both of the others stared at her, shocked that she wouldn't know.

"Maximilien de Robespierre," said Christine's brother. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of _him_."

Actually… that one… Dawn had heard of.


	9. Chapter 9

"I will always stand up for those who give bread to starving children," said Maximilien, as he led Seo to his rooms, and pulled out a chair for Seo to sit. "Stockpiling bread for those who can pay a high price is not capitalism! It is sickness! Blood must circulate through the body to provide health for a human being — and as such, bread must circulate to the populace, for all prices, in order to provide a healthy economy."

He wasn't handsome in a traditionally handsome way. But there was a gleam of cleverness in his eyes. A gleam of fascination flowing through him, as he looked at Seo, studying her and trying to work her out.

He had noticed the rapid improvement in her French. And was trying to search for the meaning. Understand who and what she was, who could pick up a language so quickly and who understood what it meant to be hungry and oppressed?

"I guess… I have a bit of a thing about protecting children," Seo admitted. She recalled what she'd just seen, in 1860's America. "Bit of a thing about slavery, too."

"And that's why it's time for the French people to throw off the shackles of slavery," Maximilien insisted. "To set all free! Time for the aristocrats to understand that all men are equal. All men are brothers!"

"And that no one should be treated like an object," Seo agreed. Still feeling the anger over what had happened. "No one should have to be shot at and threatened, or separated from their families — simply because of how they were born!"

Maximilien nodded, gravely. "I, too, have seen such atrocities," he said. "I once thought all men were good, inside. But the misery that we have endured from someone who thought himself our overlord. Our master, living in luxury while below the people starved!" He shook his head. "Appalling."

"Appalling," Seo agreed. "Disgraceful."

Maximilien had already told her about 'Citoyen Louis Capet'. Their once-King. The man who'd once ruled with an iron fist from his palace of luxury, leaving the people he governed enslaved and degraded, turned into nothing but his own personal workforce.

"Ruling from a palace, hovering in the sky," Seo breathed, trying to still the tremble in her hands. "While his subjects flee for their lives from his loyal followers. Those… final remnants of humanity, from time's end, that he's corrupted and brought to Earth to help him rule."

Maximilien nodded. "The aristocracy."

Clearly he hadn't caught the 'from time's end' part.

Seo looked up at him. Staring into his eyes. "What do you do to them?" she asked. "Those corrupted remnants of humanity? How do you save them?"

Maximilien sighed. Shook his head. "Oh, Mademoiselle Seo," he said. "I have tried so hard to find a way to save these people. But the aristocrats are so certain of their own birthright. They believe in their monarchy so strongly that they're prepared to let their brothers die in the streets outside their homes — and simply laugh about it."

"Because they loved doing it," Seo muttered — _not_ talking about the aristocracy. "Loved the deaths. The murders. The destruction." She shook her head. "And they were _human_."

"I have long since decided," said Maximilien, "that you cannot save those who refuse to be saved. Those corrupted beyond redemption."

Seo shut her eyes. "Leave them, there," she said. "In the dark. At the end of everything."

"In their prison cells, where they belong," Maximilien agreed. "To await justice."

"To await death." Seo shook her head. "Such a loss. Such a… failure."

"And is it such a loss?" asked Maximilien. "What if you saved them from death? What if you dragged them from the darkest depths of their prisons, and let them into the sunlight once more? Would they change? Would they stop their crimes and slaughter?"

Seo shook her head.

"This world must serve the life and liberty of all," said Maximilien. "Not just the select few. They are better where they are, Mademoiselle Seo. And those who seek to return them to a land no-longer-their-own must be stopped, at all costs."

* * *

They spoke.

Maximilien and Seo. They spoke for days — weeks — about the rights of man and the nature of freedom and what it really meant that all men were good, inside.

And Maximilien's words comforted Seo. Ignited something within her. He believed, so strongly, that humanity was good, at its core. Abhorred bloodshed and violence, publically spoke out against the death penalty. He was called 'the Incorruptible', and so… Seo thought… he was. A man unable to be corrupted by money or titles or promises from foreign powers.

A man fueled by his beliefs.

They grew closer, as they spoke. Both seeing that same spark of righteousness and determination in the other. Both seeing the way in which they longed to bring fairness and happiness to a people long plagued by injustice and servitude.

He retreated from the outside world, to spend time with her. The rumor was that he was ill, but those who knew him knew better. The illness was the fire of love, that had overtaken him.

One day, overcome by fondness for one another, they took each other up in their arms. And shared a long, passionate kiss.

* * *

And from outside Maximilien's rooms, a desperate Dawn — who'd spent the last few weeks searching tirelessly through Paris for her niece — stared in through the window. Her jaw dropping open, as Christine pointed out the rooms of Maximilien de Robespierre, known as the 'Incorruptible.'

Dawn watched.

As her niece made out with one of the most infamous murderers in history.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Robespierre's dialogue is taken from his speeches. I tried to be as true to the historical characters as I could. Within the limits of my story. And there's a record, around this time, that mentions Robespierre very nearly got married. But apparently, it fell through. Just so you don't think I'm pulling this all out of nowhere!


	10. Chapter 10

The ex-king's fate was changing, daily. First came news of the Brunswick Manifesto — foreign armies threatening rash retaliation on France if it didn't restore the monarchy. Which suggested a conspiracy between the ex-king and his former allies, communication designed to undermine the new republic.

And this news was followed closely by the revelation of the contents of Citoyen Louis Capet's secret vault.

"Letters of conspiracy," Maximilien told Seo, "between Louis Capet and some of the most trusted leaders of this revolution!" He held her hands in his, rubbing her palms as if to bask in her purity. "I don't know whom I can trust, anymore. Men I thought beyond reproach… giving up their morals and ideals in this way."

Louis Capet was suspected of conspiracy and attacks upon public safety. And Maximilien de Robespierre had to retreat from his home, and serve as a leader to his people, once more. To give strength and courage, where it was needed.

"If I don't show them the way," Maximilien told Seo, "who will?"

He labored over his speech. Struggled to come to a decision as to what should be done. Seo trusted him to do the right thing. She'd seen his heart, his forgiving nature. She'd seen his faith in human goodness.

She stepped out, with him, to help him deliver his speech.

And that was when she was kidnapped.

* * *

Maximilien heard the shouts and protests from his beloved. Turned, in time to see Seo sag, unconscious, as if struck down by magic itself, a rag across her mouth. And then dragged off by two women and a man, all attired in the remnants of once-fine clothes.

His anger flashed through him, as he shouted for his people to help him.

And so the mob reformed. And raced after the kidnappers, reaching for them. Tearing at them.

The women got away, Mademoiselle Seo in their arms. But the man, staying behind to fight against the mob and attempt to murder even more innocent, as he must have done so often in his place of privilege — was caught.

Arrested.

"What treachery is this?" Maximilien de Robespierre demanded of the young man. "Do you expect a ransom? A vote of leniency from me towards your precious Citoyen Capet?"

The young man refused to answer. Just spat in Robespierre's face.

Maximilien left him to his imprisonment. His morals would not be compromised. He had a speech to make. A people to lead. An old world to topple, and a new one to erect in its place.

And so he went off and gave his speech.

To an enthusiastic crowd.

"For Louis, I have neither love, nor hate," Robespierre declared. "I hate only his crimes! Yes, I abhor the death penalty, and, yes, I believe use of the death penalty is, in general, a crime unjustifiable by the indestructible principles of nature — _except_ in cases like this!" He swept his hands out, to make his point. "Cases in which such a death would protect the safety of individuals or of the society altogether." He looked out at the crowd gathered to listen to him. "And so, with regret, I pronounce this fatal truth: Louis must die so that the nation may live!"

* * *

Seo came to in a dark cave-like area. Jumping to her feet and getting ready to fight for her life.

"Woah, woah!" came a familiar voice. "Take it easy on the kung-fu-ninja stuff. You're rescued, now."

Dawn's voice.

Seo relaxed her fighting stance. Gave a long, annoyed sigh. "I didn't need to be 'rescued'."

She could see Dawn's face, in the darkness, as her eyes adjusted. Dawn standing with her arms crossed, looking pretty defensive and upset.

"Yeah?" said Dawn. "Because there's only one reason you'd be going smoochies with Robespierre. And that's if he'd brainwashed you."

"It's because I happen to like him!" Seo retorted. She advanced on Dawn, irritated. "And why can't I? He's brilliant, you know. A firm believer in liberty and equality, who abhors death and violence and who…"

"Will go on to be one of the most infamous murderers in human history," Dawn cut in.

Seo froze. Staring.

For a few moments, no sound echoed through the catacombs.

"You're… you're wrong," Seo insisted. Shook her head. "History got it wrong. Whatever event is going to happen that characterizes him as a murderer, it… it can't be his fault. I know it isn't. He'd never do that. He's trying to protect people! He—"

"He's going to shove people up onto a stage and cut their heads off," Dawn said, pointedly. "You can't get a whole lot more guilty than that."

"What?!" Seo cried.

Dawn sighed. "Why don't you know this?" she asked. "I mean, did you just skip to the making-out part, without the whole talking-to-him part? The man's a total psychopath! And—"

"But he's _not_ ," Seo insisted. "He's sweet. Wonderful. He's been the strongest advocate for the abolition of the death penalty. And he wants to free the slaves!"

The woman beside Dawn stared at Seo, surprised. "You mean the African slaves? In the colonies?"

Seo felt a chill run through her. "Yes, of course. What else… could he have…?"

"The revolution has not touched the issue of African slavery," said the woman. "A delegation came, appealing to them. But for the most part, people seemed entirely uninterested." She seemed upset by the issue. "And the Jacobins call themselves the purveyors of equality!"

"But Maximilien believes it should end!" Seo insisted. "I've spoken to him. He believes in freedom for all. Freedom of religion, freedom from racism, freedom for—"

"Freedom for me and my brother?" asked the woman. "Forced to retreat beneath the streets of Paris, to outrun a mob ready to kill us?"

Seo leveled a dark stare at the woman. "And who are you?"

"Christine saved my life," said Dawn. "She's been persecuted because she used to be totally upper-classy, and now she's considered a criminal. But she _isn't_ one! She's been risking her own life to help me find you."

Seo noted the panic in Dawn's voice. A little surprised. "You've been worried about me."

"Uh, yeah!" said Dawn. "You're my niece! And I totally stuck you in the middle of the French Revolution!"

Seo wasn't sure what to say to this.

"Look, let's just… get out of here, okay?" said Dawn, grabbing Seo up by the wrist. "I don't care who made out with who or whatever happened. I just want to leave."

Seo yanked her hand away. "No."

"What do you mean, no?" Christine demanded. "You must flee! Haven't you heard what happens to émigrées?"

"These people are fighting for freedom!" Seo said. "Fighting for the right to feed their families. And I have to help. I want to help!"

"You want to chop off heads?" Dawn challenged.

"It's not about violence or chopping-off-heads!" Seo insisted. "It's about freeing the world from a brutal tyrant that enslaves the entire population into misery and starvation! I know what that leads to — I've seen it! For a whole year, I've seen it. And I can't let it happen, again. I was weak, last time — I gave in. But no more." Her eyes narrowed. "This time, I'm going to stop it."

"Last time?" asked Dawn, staring at her, utterly bewildered. "What do you mean, last time? Is this about the Civil War thing?"

"I know what's right, Dawn," Seo insisted. "Freedom and democracy for all! And I'm going to see it through to the end. I'm going to make sure those people are free."

She turned, and tried to head back. But Dawn sprinted forwards, and tackled her to the ground. Both thudding against the rock of the catacombs, bones shaking around them.

"You've got no idea what you're getting into!" Dawn hissed. "I'm serious, Seo. Heads are going to roll by the end of this. Robespierre's going to be in charge of it. And if we stick around, we're both going to get killed."

"Really?" Seo retorted. "And which HBO mini-series are you basing this particular nugget of information off of?"

"Common sense and a Broadway Musical!" said Dawn. "I've seen Les Mis! Everyone dies at the end!"

Seo's eyes narrowed. " _Les Miserables_? You mean the book by Victor Hugo about the June Rebellion of 1832? Forty years after now?"

Dawn paused. Grimaced. "Yeah… but…" She shook her head. "That doesn't matter! People are going to seriously die by the end of this revolution, too, Seo. Your mom took a class on the French Revolution, in college, and she and Willow were always going mega-debate about it around me. I picked stuff up."

"I don't believe you," Seo said, managing to free herself from Dawn. She dusted off her clothes. "I'm staying here. If you're worried, you can stay in the ship until I get back."

"And if you don't get back?" Dawn said. "If you die?"

"Then it's a good thing I've got thirteen lives."

"Yeah? And are those thirteen lives guillotine-proof?" Dawn retorted. "Or is cutting off your head enough to prevent regeneration?"

Seo had no idea.

But she wasn't telling Dawn that.

"I can take care of myself!" said Seo. Turning to stumble through the darkness, and find a way to safety. "Just stop rescuing me from things I don't need rescuing from! And…"

They all froze.

As the abrupt sounds of policemen and a search party echoed through the catacombs.

"They followed us," Christine breathed.

Dawn tried to grab up Seo and drag her after them, but Seo squirmed her way out of Dawn's grip.

"I'm not leaving you!" Dawn hissed.

"And I'm not leaving!" Seo hissed back. "You're not my mom. You can't tell me what to do!"

"I can _too_ tell you what to do!" Dawn said. Clenching her fists. "Whose ass do you think's gonna get kicked if your mom finds out I've gotten you killed?"

"And that's all this is about?" Seo said, eyes blazing. "You being afraid to confront my mom? Well, how do you think I'd feel about confessing to Mom that I ran away when people needed me? That I had a chance to fix my mistakes and didn't take it?"

"Please, Mademoiselle Dawn," Christine begged. "We must go!"

Dawn grabbed up the rag of chloroform. "I'll chloroform you if I have to."

"Then I'll hold my breath!" shouted Seo. "I'll kick and scream and raise up a fuss! But I'm not letting you drag me out of here. Maximilien's right! I have a duty to stay and…"

"Assist a murderer?" Dawn said.

"Free everyone!" Seo hissed. "All the slaves. All the peasants! Equality for _all_ , Dawn. It's so important! And I have to…!"

That was when they realized… they'd delayed too long. As they were surrounded by the police, armed with bayonets and torches.

All pointed at Dawn and Christine.

"You two," said the police, "are under arrest."


	11. Chapter 11

Dawn crossed her arms, lingering in the damp Parisian dungeon, awaiting… okay, probably awaiting guillotine. Unless that hadn't started, yet.

Geeze, she wished she'd paid attention in history class!

"Why didn't you run?" Dawn asked Christine. "Get out of there, without me, when you had the chance?"

"And leave you to face judgment alone?" Christine shook her head. "No. Whatever happens, I'll be there. To help both you and my brother. You have both given yourselves to protect your family. Perhaps, if the people hear that, they will be more lenient on you."

Yeah, Dawn was guessing probably not. She knew mob mentality way too well. Some people were great at manipulating it, using it to their advantage — like Ria, when she was trying to talk a group of seriously freaked newbie Slayers into uniting and taking down the larger threat. Or… Robespierre, when talking about guillotining people.

"You still should have run away, while you could," said Dawn. She sighed, leaning back against the rock wall of the cell. "I've got a lot more chance of getting out of this than you do."

"On the contrary," said Christine. "You're a foreigner. They're more likely to be hard on you than on me."

Dawn cringed.

Oh, she hoped Seo's make-out sessions with Mr. Guillotine would be enough to bail her out of this one. She really, really hoped!

* * *

Maximilien listened to the entire story with a straight face. About the kidnapping that — Seo insisted — wasn't a kidnapping, just a worried aunt trying to track down her niece. About Seo's decision to stay and do her duty to help the downtrodden.

"You can't let her die," Seo urged him. "Please. She's my aunt. An American, like me."

Maximilien said nothing for a long moment. "An American," he clarified, "who sides with the aristocrats and monarchists?"

"Christine and her brother rescued Aunt Dawn from the mob," Seo said. "They've been helping her look for me." She forced down the very real fear she was beginning to feel, inside of her. "It's my fault. I ran off and didn't tell my aunt where I was going. I should have let her know where I was."

Maximilien thought it over. "It won't be easy," he told Seo. "But I believe you are right, and your aunt is innocent. Therefore… I must see what I can do to release her."

And he did.

After a while of persuading and cajoling, Dawn was released from prison.

Seo came down to the jail and swept Dawn into a tight hug, the moment she emerged a free person. Dawn shoved Seo away, angrily.

"Christine and her brother are still in there," Dawn said, pointing back into the prison. "They got caught helping me rescue you. Because they thought family was important." Crossed her arms. "I hope you're feeling really proud of yourself when they get all guillotined."

"No one is getting guillotined!" Seo snapped. "This is about freedom, not senseless barbarism."

The guards all gave a little smirk and a laugh.

Seo looked over at them. "What?"

"As you speak," said one of the guards, "the tyrant Louis Capet is being beheaded in the _Place de la Révolution_."

Seo stared. "What?" She shook her head. "But… I never heard about…"

"Naturally," said the guards.

Seo didn't understand.

Dawn grabbed Seo by the shoulders, and shook her. "Don't you get it, Seo?" she said. "This was done deliberately! Robespierre wanted me released _now_ , so he could make sure you weren't around to stop him going all mega-guillotine!"

Seo couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it.

She turned, and ran.

Arriving in the Place de la Révolution just in time to see the guillotine come down on Louis Capet's head.

* * *

"You tricked me," Seo accused.

Maximilien was silent for a few long moments. Then sighed, and gave in.

"Executions are a miserable business, Mademoiselle Seo," Maximilien de Robespierre sighed. "I didn't want you to see it. I didn't want to corrupt someone as… pure and innocent as you."

Seo's eyes narrowed. "The king was executed without a trial. It's barbarism."

Maximilien laughed, gently. Taking her hands in his. "Oh, my dear girl," he said. Leaning in towards her. "You're what I once was. Believing the best in people, as I once did. The compassion I see inside of you… that belief in human kindness… it's beautiful. Naïve, but beautiful." He looked into her eyes. "I wish I could go back to that."

Seo snatched her hands away. Glaring. "I've seen things you couldn't imagine, Maximilien. Things too horrible for your worst nightmares." Her face grew even stormier. "I thought this revolution was better than that."

"It is."

"Louis was murdered for crimes he might not have even committed!" Seo said. "I've seen those letters from the hidden vault. They condemn your revolution more than they condemn Louis Capet." She shook with suppressed fury. "So why? Why did you permit this to happen, Maximilien?! Why did you let those corrupt revolutionaries get away with condemning Louis on nothing more than hearsay and gossip? Why didn't you _say_ something?!"

"I did say something," said Maximilien. " _I_ was the one who told them to execute Louis Capet without a trial."

Seo stared. Unable to speak.

"And I'd do it again," Maximilien continued. "I don't revel in the blood of others. Don't approve of the death penalty. But Louis Capet had to die. No matter what."

"Even if he was innocent?" Seo cried.

"Yes."

Seo felt anger blazing through her. "Why?" she growled.

"Because he was a symbol of monarchism," said Maximilien. "While he was around, there would always be a chance that we could go back to the way things were, before. We had to eliminate him, or the revolution would die."

"That's no kind of answer!" Seo said. "You could have exiled him. Sent him into obscurity!"

Maximilien gave Seo a sad smile. "My sweet, innocent, naïve little Seo," he praised. "Always thinking the best of people. Such virtuous idealism!" He turned a sharp eye on her. "But you aren't stupid. Far from it. So tell me, yourself. If you had the chance to ensure the safety and freedom of millions of people — by executing a single man — wouldn't that one execution be right?"

Seo opened her mouth to answer. But froze. Unable to speak.

"One person," Maximilien reiterated. "Save that one person, and millions die cursing your name. Condemn them, and the masses are free and happy forever more." He looked deep into her eyes. "Don't you understand?"

Seo cringed. Unable to speak.

"Don't you want people to be happy?" Maximilien asked, taking her up by her arms. "To be free? Don't you want to help the less fortunate?"

Seo never answered.

And couldn't get rid of that horrible feeling deep in the pit of her stomach, every time she thought about it.

* * *

Releasing Dawn, as it turned out, was easy. Releasing Dawn's friends was a _whole_ other matter.

"Look, they helped me," said Dawn, appealing to Maximilien. "They're innocent. Wouldn't hurt anyone. If you give them the chance…"

At which point Maximilien produced a group of records, neatly bound together, for Dawn's perusal.

"The Marquis de Cingé," said Maximilien. "Guilty of rape, murder, along with cruelty and an abuse of power the likes of which I've rarely seen."

Dawn looked the documents over. Her face going white.

"Okay, so… maybe _he's_ guilty," Dawn said, handing back the incriminating evidence. "But _Christine_ isn't. There's nothing wrong with her."

"True," said Maximilien. "But we can't permit her to go free. She refuses to believe her brother has committed any crime. Even after hearing his own confession." He shook his head. "If she lives, her brother becomes a martyr. The revolution could die."

"So you're just gonna kill her?" said Dawn. "To keep up your precious revolution?" She shoved her hands down on the desk. "Well I think your revolution sucks! So there!"

Maximilien got up from his desk, abruptly. His eyes suddenly filled with that fire and danger that reminded Dawn why she really shouldn't piss off Robespierre.

"You are very lucky," Maximilien whispered to her, "that your niece thinks otherwise. It is because of her that I'm going to pretend you kept silent." He leaned down, his face grave. "But if you say one word, publicly, against the revolution…"

Dawn could guess what that would mean.

"I'll be good," she promised.

She thought it was to her great credit that, after making this promise, Dawn waited a full hour before breaking it. And telling Seo everything.


	12. Chapter 12

Seo stood, some ways away from Maximilien de Robespierre. Her body cast in the shadows of night, as she approached. Having just heard the news, from Dawn.

"Let Christine go," Seo demanded, quietly. "Or I'll free her, myself."

Maximilien turned to face her. Slightly taken aback by the expression on her face.

He dropped all traces of question from his stance. As he advanced towards her, his eyes gentle, reaching out for her.

She sidestepped his embrace.

"You never believed in capital punishment," said Seo. "You said it should be outlawed. That all people were good, inside."

"And they are," Maximilien said. "Virtue is the soul of democracy. But we have tyrants surrounding us, from without, waiting to charge and restore monarchy. Just as we have traitors within, willing to help the invaders." His voice dropped, a little, gently. "It only takes one traitor in the midst of a city under siege, to unlock the doors and let the enemy inside."

Seo's gaze remained hard. Unchanging.

"That's the Marquis," said Seo. "What about Christine?"

"If we kill the brother, she will destroy the revolution out of spite and revenge," said Maximilien. "She must be eliminated for the greater good. Unfortunate. But unavoidable."

Seo's expression grew that much harder.

Maximilien sighed. "I know," he said. "It is deplorable, certainly. After all, Christine de Crevant-Cingé is truly an innocent. But what else can I do, Mademoiselle Seo? If it were you, in my place, would you do any different?" He gestured at the world around him. "Would you give up the chance to save your own people for the sake of one innocent?"

Seo looked away. "I've done it once before," she whispered.

Maximilien stared at her. Dumbstruck.

"Just remember, Maximilien — I gave you a chance to release Christine, yourself," said Seo. "Peacefully. With no violence. No bloodshed." She met his eyes with her own. "What happens next is on your head."

Then she turned. And slipped away into the moonlight.

* * *

Never had Christine been more surprised than when she, condemned to death, in the midst of prayer and trying to come to terms with God, had heard the sounds of a fight breaking out, amongst the guards. No, not a fight amongst the guards. Whoever was fighting, it sounded like the guards were certainly losing.

The thud of a guard hitting the ground, and then a familiar voice rang through the air.

"I guess sometimes violence _is_ the answer, huh?"

Christine raced forwards. She knew that voice anywhere. "Dawn!"

The door to her cell swung open. But it wasn't Dawn, standing there, freeing her from her prison and her death. No. It was the niece, her visage looking like an avenging angel, her eyes blazing with a determination Christine had scarcely seen in anyone, before.

"Come with us," said Seo.

And so Christine followed them, outside of the cell. Past the guards that Seo had beaten up, and out towards freedom.

Stopped, just before the exit of the prison. As they came face-to-face with Robespierre, and a full battalion of soldiers at his command.

"You shouldn't have done this," said Robespierre, through his teeth, to Seo.

Seo didn't seem even remotely concerned. "Going to shoot me without a trial, then?" she asked. Tilted her head to the side. "Another innocent sacrificed for your revolution?"

"You've broken into a prison and released a dangerous criminal," said Robespierre. "You're hardly innocent."

Seo met his eyes. "And neither are you."

Then, in a burst of movement, Dawn grabbed up Christine, and the three of them raced into a nearby glass pillar, which had been nestled into the shadows of the prison, and which Christine hadn't noticed, before. Gunshots echoing around them, as Dawn and Christine raced into the pillar, and…

Christine stared at the impossible surroundings. Unable to take it all in.

Seo, in the meantime, stood in the threshold of the ship. Facing down Robespierre, who'd ordered the guards to hold fire — and he meant it, this time!

"You can't hide in there, forever," Maximilien said. "We'll shatter the glass, force our way inside, and get you out."

Seo grinned. Didn't answer.

Maximilien's rage grew, and he stepped forwards, tossing his hands in the air. "Why?" he demanded. "Her death is for the greater good. Why condemn yourself and your aunt just to save someone who _should_ be sacrificed? Why put all those lives at risk for the sake of one individual?"

Seo crossed her arms. Leaning against the threshold of her ship.

"I guess," she said, "I'm corruptible."

Then slipped inside the ship.

Which, with a mechanical roar, disappeared from sight. Never to return.

* * *

They dropped Christine off in Paris in the near-future. Somewhere she could be safe, without having to worry about their untimely intervention messing with history.

And then they departed, once more.

They arrived on some planet in the future that was actually just one huge library planet. On opening day. Seo immediately darting for the history section, to look up France, 1793.

Robespierre.

She stared at the page of the book. Seeing the man she'd thought so wonderful, and reading of what he did next. All the people he'd go on to kill.

"I can't believe it," said Seo. Flipping the page, and continuing to read. "All those people. Everything he did…"

Dawn shrugged.

Seo looked up at her aunt. "He was so against the death penalty," she said. "So passionate about saving lives. He cared about people, Dawn. Really cared about protecting the lives of those less fortunate than himself."

"Weird way of showing it," said Dawn.

Seo's eyes drifted back down to the book. "We were so alike," said Seo. "So much alike." She shut the book. "The only difference was… when he asked me if I would murder one innocent to save the rest of the world… I couldn't say yes."

Dawn thought of when she'd been a teenager, up there on a platform, a multiverse-destroying portal opening up beneath her, and Buffy trying to decide what to do. Unwilling to let Dawn jump and kill herself to end the destruction.

"Neither could your mom," said Dawn. She put a hand on Seo's shoulder, gave her a warm smile. "It's why we're both still alive."

Seo returned the smile, a little timidly.

"Come on," said Dawn, turning around. "I've had enough Robespierre to last a lifetime. Let's go see if we can figure out when and where that Martin Luther King speech was."


	13. Afterwards

"And when this happens," Martin Luther King's voice rang out across the crowd, "when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!'"

The entire crowd broke into applause and cheering. People jumping up and down, shouting their support, their every cry and shout a prayer of hope.

"Amazing," breathed Seo. "Just… amazing."

"Told you," said Dawn.

"Fighting for freedom using words instead of violence," said Seo. "And it works. Brilliant." She turned to Dawn. "What happens to him, after this? Does he become president or something?"

"Uh…" said Dawn. "Yeah. President. Totally."

Seo quirked an eyebrow. "What really happens to him?"

"Well," said Dawn, her voice filled with authority, "unlike your boyfriend, Robespierre, Martin Luther King _doesn't_ become a homicidal maniac, and instead, becomes a hero. He's all mega inspiring, causes all kinds of civil rights stuff — and even has his own weekend named after him."

Seo sighed, turning to go. "He gets assassinated, doesn't he?" she muttered.

Dawn didn't answer.

"Sometimes," said Seo, "I hate history."


End file.
